Green Fields of France
by yellowhorde
Summary: 25 5S 34 implied Duo sits at the deathbed of his last remaining friend and fellow pilot
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I make no money from this or any other story I write Pairings: 2+5, 5+S, 2+C, 3x4(implied) Category: Angst Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Angst, Death Title: Green Fields of France Author: yellowhorde Status: Finished My web page, yellowhorde's house, or feel free to send comments/constructive criticism to me at yellowhorde@hotmail.com  
  
GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE PART ONE  
  
The brown haired man rushed through the glass entrance that lead into the hospitable, his long chestnut braid streaming behind him. Once inside, he paused to orientate himself. Filling his lungs to capacity in one deep inhalation, the slender man closed his violet eyes and slowly released his breath through his lips. This helped to calm him somewhat. Now was not the time to panic. Losing his cool would not help him deal with this nightmare any better...  
  
(I've certainly been in my share of hospitable. The layout should probably be the same, or so I would imagine.)  
  
The man opened his eyes and scanned the floor. It was all white, barren, antiseptic. Empty.  
  
Cool white tile stretched out as far as he could see, gleaming with what appeared to be a fresh coat of wax. The floors looked almost wet, but he saw no evidence of those little yellow caution signs. So he could be wrong on that. Still, just the same, he would be sure to walk very carefully.  
  
The hall was just like any of the countless other hospitals he had been in, either on Earth or up in the colonies. He should have felt comforted, but he didn't. He hated this place. He hated being here, needing to be here.  
  
With another deep breath, the man started to walk down the corridor until he approached what looked like the nurse's station. One woman sat in a leather seat behind a desk buried under mounds of paper work, files and used Styrofoam cups with rings of dried coffee in the bottom. Tiny packets of artificial sweeteners lay scattered about looking absurd and VERY pink amongst all that white mess.  
  
(Hmm... Reminds me of, well, ME...)  
  
Sensing his presence, the nurse looked up from her reports. Her hair, a very dark brown, almost black, was long and pulled back in a ponytail that hung limply over her shoulder. She face was pale and her eyes were gray, like storm clouds gathered over the ocean. She had dark smudges under her eyes and she looked very tired. Still, she managed to smile cheerfully at the tall, handsome stranger that stood before her.  
  
"How may I help you, sir?" Her voice was alto and held a very slight French accent. No wonder, since they were in France.  
  
"I am looking for whatever room Trowa Barton is currently staying in, please."  
  
He managed to give the nurse a faint smile, nice enough, but a ghost of his former grin. He just hadn't felt a lot like smiling over the past few years and he was out of practice. It was a real pity.  
  
"Barton, hmmm...Barton...."  
  
Her desk may have looked like a disaster area, but the young nurse had no trouble locating some sort of three ring binder from under the multiple stacks of papers that appeared ready to collapse at the slightest puff of air. Much to his amazement, the lopsided tower of papers remained standing.  
  
"Ah! Here it is..." She flipped through its pages. She frowned and flipped through some more. "Now that's odd... Let me check the computer..."  
  
She swiveled around and started typing on the keyboard. The white light the screen cast on her face was very harsh. It did nothing to flatter her pleasant features. But she didn't seem to mind. Her fingers flew over the keys, searching, searching for the requested information. And not finding it.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir!" She began as she turned to face the man who had waited patiently at her desk. "My information says that a Trowa Barton was checked out this morning."  
  
"But...but that can't be...! I was told that he was here. I - I - Then where could he be?"  
  
He planted his hands squarely on the desk, not slamming, but darn close. Had he gotten his information mixed up? NO! He had been certain. He had written it down himself, even asked for it to be repeated. Still, be that as it may, Trowa was not here.  
  
"Damn it!"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
A familiar voice came from down the hallway. A slender woman with thick, wavy brown hair that hung about her shoulders was hurrying towards him. She wore a pale yellow long sleeved shirt with a square neckline and a purple pleated skirt that belled out about her knees as she approached, waving her hand in the air.  
  
"Catherine? Catherine Bloom? Is that really you?"  
  
Duo was so glad to see a familiar face in this damned place. He smiled and it was much closer to what it had been so many years ago. It lit up his solemn face, making his amethyst eyes dance. As his old friend came within reach, he wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug, swinging her about in delight, laughing.  
  
"Oh, I have missed you so much!" He breathed happily in her ear just before putting the woman back down on her feet.  
  
Catherine wobbled unsteadily on her feet for a moment; caught off guard by the exuberant greeting and the intense wash of feelings that threatened to engulf her. She exhaled shakily and her face was flushed, her eyes twinkling. Her heart fluttered in her chest for standing right before her after so many years was the boy whom she had secretly loved oh so long ago.  
  
The brunette took Duo's two hands into her own and she gazed up into his beautiful eyes.  
  
"My, you sure have gotten tall since I last saw you!" She exclaimed in wonder.  
  
Duo Maxwell had indeed! He used to be, what? An inch or two above five feet? But that had been when he had been fifteen, sixteen years old. Now Duo stood approximately six feet tall. He had also filled out in the chest and shoulders, gaining a little weight, but not really that much. He was still rather thin. His rich brown hair was still worn in the old familiar braid, but now it hung almost to his knees. No, he still didn't believe in cutting his hair much.  
  
But the biggest change had not been physical. Duo gorgeous eyes were somehow haunted, filled with more sorrow than anyone should have to bear. As he gazed down at Catherine, she knew that the last few years had been very difficult for the former pilot of Deathscythe.  
  
Another drastic change was his smile, or lack of smile. Duo used to have the largest, most contagious grin she had ever seen. He had always been so full of bounce and spirit. Now, when he smiled, it was a very watered down version of his former one.  
  
The loss of that precious smile hurt Catherine deep in her heart. She longed to take the American into her arms. To comfort him, to sooth his soul. To whisper sweet nothings into his ears and to tell him that everything would be all right. But things were not all right. Her brother, Duo's friend and former co-pilot, was dying. Nothing would ever be all right. Not ever again.  
  
Duo's smile faded from his face to be replaced by a concerned frown.  
  
"Catherine, where is Trowa? The nurse told me that he was checked out of the hospitable this morning. Is this true?"  
  
Catherine pulled her hands gently away from the man before her. She clasped them together and averted her face just slightly as if trying to hide the glimmer of tears that danced in her large eyes.  
  
"It's true. The doctors can do nothing for Trowa now. He didn't want to be hooked up to a bunch of machines or respirators. So, finally, they allowed me to take him home this morning."  
  
She looked back towards Duo; her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She held her eyes wide, unblinking. She was not going to cry, no, not here, not now.  
  
Her voice hitched in her throat and she was unable to stifle the sob that wracked her slender form. She fell into Duo's arms suddenly and then the tears did flow, they fell down her smooth cheeks like a waterfall, so fast, so furious that she trembled from head to toe. The tears fell and dampened her secret love's red polo shirt.  
  
(Red...? I've never seen you in anything but black...Looks good on you though...)  
  
For a moment, Duo was startled by the fierceness of her outburst. He held himself stiff, arms held to his side as the woman sobbed out her misery. He chided himself for his stupidity.  
  
Catherine had been by her brother's side all these months. She had seen his deterioration. Watched him dying, unable to help him, unable to save him. There was nothing the doctors could do. It had been a rare form of leukemia. Trowa had desperately needed a complete blood transfusion. But a suitable donor had not been found until much too late. Six short months after diagnosis and now he was dying...  
  
No wonder she had finally broken down. It had simply become too much for her to bear. It was not easy to watch a loved one dying by inches. To look on and know that you were helpless, powerless to do anything, to change the inevitable outcome.  
  
Finally, Duo wrapped his arms about the crying Catherine. He stroked her silky hair reassuringly and whispered sweet words of comfort as he kissed her gently on top of her bowed head. He drank in the fresh scent of her hair. He comforted her as best as he could.  
  
But the words he murmured were not just for her, but for him as well. It didn't matter that everything he said was a lie. It had to be done. They would take solace in that lie.  
  
Everything would be all right...don't cry...things would turn out well in the end.  
  
Lies! Damned lies! How he hated to have to lie to her, to himself like this!  
  
After an eternity, Catherine managed to get control of herself. She dug through her purse until she found a small packet of tissues. She silently offered one to Duo and he gratefully accepted. The woman took a deep shuddering breath and forced it through her lips. Now that she had control, she felt kind of embarrassed about her outburst. But Duo didn't seem to care that she had unloaded her emotional burden on him.  
  
He smiled gently at her as if he understood how she felt perfectly. Maybe he did. He had after all lost three of his best friends and fellow Gundam pilots over the last ten years. Now he was about to lose another.  
  
(No, I'm sure he knows exactly how I feel... Probably better than anyone else in the whole world.)  
  
"Now, let's go see Trowa." Catherine took Duo's hand and led him out of the silent hospitable.  
  
*****  
  
As they roared down the paved road, Duo sat silently, seat belt fastened securely, all the while watching the beautiful country side flashing by outside his open window, his long bangs blowing crazily in the resulting wind.  
  
The world was full of green and the air was a beautiful gold as the sun made it's steady way towards the distant horizon. He could see lush valleys filled with grazing sheep looking like tiny balls of cotton strung out carelessly over the massive expanse of green fields. Large hills rose majestically off in the distance, dotted here and there by clumps of trees. They had even had to stop on occasion to allow a few small boys herd their geese across the narrow road. Duo watched it all with an avid interest.  
  
It was, in a word, peaceful  
  
He had been kind of surprised when he had seen Catherine's car. It was one of those old style Volkswagen beetle's that had been so popular at the turn of the 21st century. They had obviously been making a comeback over these last few years. Still, he had to admit that the small yellow car with it's sunroof - or did they call them moon roofs, now? - wide open was rather cute and perfectly suited Trowa's sister's personality.  
  
Warm, friendly and full of pep. Not to mention just as cute as could be.  
  
He squashed that notion quickly. No need to go there.  
  
The American pilot smiled stupidly at nothing in particular. It was good to be with someone he had grown to care for, after all these years alone. He had never gotten married, never settled down. The only one he had really cared for had loved another.  
  
The memory of his beloved Chang Wufei standing side by side with his new bride, Sally Po, looking happy and perfectly content flashed through Duo's mind. He pushed it away angrily. The braided boy had had his chance and he had blown it big time. If he had only come out and told the Chinese pilot of Shenlong how he had felt maybe things would have been different. Maybe Wufei would still be alive today if he had had some guts.  
  
(I wish I had told him how I felt!)  
  
Well, yeah... 'If wishes were fishes we'd all cast our nets.' Or something along those lines. He sighed heavily and returned to staring at the scenery.  
  
Suddenly, Duo became aware that Catherine had been speaking and he had not caught a word of it!  
  
(Snap out of it, Duo! Let's not let your mind wander too much.)  
  
Sheepishly, he mumbled, "I'm sorry...Could you repeat that last bit? I didn't catch it."  
  
Catherine glanced over from her driving. She had not been aware that the one time soldier who had once called himself the God of Death had been wool gathering. Fortune had finally smiled down on Duo for change.  
  
"I said that after Quatre's death four years ago, Trowa returned to France to be with me. I am his last remaining family, after all. He'd been working in the circus. You know, helping me with my act." She grinned. "I throw the knives and he just stands there like some sitting duck. He never even blinks - not once. Not even that time my aim was off and I knifed him! Ha! Talk about nerves of steel! If I had been in his position I would have been PISSED!"  
  
She paused for a moment, then laughed sweetly. The sound sent tremors coursing through Duo's empty heart.  
  
"Then again, I would never have let someone tie me up to some large bull's eye and throw sharp objects at me!"  
  
(Of course, his heart just wasn't in it, anymore. It's like he wanted to die. He missed Quatre so much. His heart had been in so much pain; he just wasn't able to cope, not really. It was like he was dead inside and his body and mind just didn't know it yet.)  
  
Catherine's last spoken content earned a startled laugh from the braided man. He had been blissfully unawares of her deepest thoughts and she had managed to mask he facial expression.  
  
Duo suddenly noticed that they were slowing down. Catherine carefully pulled into a long gravel drive way. Some distance up the way was a large two story Victorian house with a wrap around porch with a Glider nestled in one corner. The house was painted yellow with white trim. Very cheerful, very homey.  
  
Large maple trees and many others of undetermined name and origin surrounded it. There was a large expanse of garden, now in full bloom. There were all kinds of plants and shrubs and flowers, but the only ones Duo recognized on sight were the lilacs and the roses. Duo did not grow flowers. He had a brown thumb. Leave the gardening to the experts. That was his motto. And obviously, Catherine was an expert!  
  
The very sight took his breath away. It was just too beautiful, too perfect.  
  
"Oh, wow! Pinch me, I must be dreaming! Did you do all this, Catherine?"  
  
Catherine smiled at the obvious awe in the pilot's voice.  
  
"Yes, I did it all on my own, with some help from Trowa. Well, actually quite a bit of help. You may be surprised to hear this, but my brother is an excellent gardener! He can grow anything! The man has a green thumb, that is for sure!"  
  
She stepped out of the door and went to retrieve Duo's luggage from the trunk.  
  
"Let's get you settled in, shall we? I have the spare bedroom all ready for you!"  
  
*****  
  
Duo gasped, a sharp inhalation of breath that tore at his throat like a sob, at the sight that was before his eyes. He had known that Trowa had been ill for some time, known that the former pilot had been dying. Still, he did not feel particularly prepared for what his eyes were seeing. His mind simply refused to process the information.  
  
It was a mistake, an optical illusion! That simply could not be Trowa! That was so not the silent pilot of Heavyarms! No way! It was a trick, a cruel, evil, horrible trick!  
  
Without even fully realizing it, Duo felt the tiny prick in the back of his eyes that meant he was about to start crying. But his mind recognized the feeling and started to protest mightily.  
  
(No, NO! I will not cry! I will NOT cry! I won't! I will be strong! I have to be strong!)  
  
But even as his mind screamed at him to stop, tears pooled in his lilac colored eyes. He shook his head and savagely blinked them away.  
  
The wasted form of a man that lay listlessly on the full sized bed was indeed the pilot of few words, Trowa Barton. But not the one that Duo had known all those years ago. No, that boy had been strong, silently passionate. Healthy, alive, full of the love he had shared with his beloved Arabian friend, Quatre Raberba Winner.  
  
The body before him now was a skeleton, skin yellowed and shrunken in. Bones protruded sharply where clothes or blanket did not cover him. Skeleton hands lay limply at his side. Every bone painfully in evidence. Once thick glorious hair and long bangs that had once hidden half of the boy's face was gone, replaced by a few dry, straggling strands that hung limp and lifelessly against a face that was a merely a skull wrapped in skin. Trowa's eyes, now mercifully closed, were so sunken into that ghastly face that they appeared to be permanently shadowed.  
  
This could not be Trowa! And yet, there was no doubt. None whatsoever.  
  
Silently, Catherine padded into the room and gracefully folded herself into an overstuffed recliner that was besides the bed. She reached out and brushed one thin, ruined lock of hair out of her brother's face. Carefully, as if afraid to break or damage, she took one of he brother's skeletal hands into her own. For a moment she held on, struggling for composure.  
  
"Trowa." she called gently, "Trowa, can you hear me? You have a visitor... Please... Duo has come to say... hello."  
  
She had almost said, "Duo had come to say good bye", but she stopped herself just in time. They both knew he wouldn't last much longer. But why say it out loud? Better to ignore the fact. Better to lie, to ignore the truth, to pretend.  
  
Trowa's sister glanced over at Duo who stood rooted in the open doorway to that cheerfully decorated, terribly depressing room. He could not bring himself to move any closer. She nodded her head and jerked in the direction of the man on the bed, clearly indicating that Duo should come over.  
  
Duo forced himself to move across the room, his footsteps stiff, jerky. The heels of the boots he wore rung dully against the wooden floor, almost seeming to echo. The sound was too loud, seemed out of place in this room that smelled of impending doom, of imamate Death. He finally managed to reach the bedside without fainting or making too much a fool of himself.  
  
(Get a hold of yourself, man. This is Trowa! Not some weird dried up mummy! It's Trowa, and you better get a grip on yourself. Your falling apart won't help him feel any better about what he is going through! So just get a grip! Oh! His eyes! Their opening!)  
  
Indeed they were opening. Duo gazed deep into those green orbs and was relieved that Trowa's eyes had remained the same. He still had the most beautiful pair of emerald eyes that Duo had ever seen. With a tiny sigh of relief Duo down at his fellow pilot. He even managed to smile, really smile.  
  
"Hey, Trowa! Long time no see, man! How are you doing?"  
  
The skeleton that was Trowa managed a faint smile, a bare tilting at the corner of his mouth. But his eyes danced almost merrily. He tried to speak, but was unable to find his voice.  
  
He gave it another go and was able to croak out a barely audible, "Okay."  
  
That one little word had cost a great deal of effort. Still, he knew he was rapidly running out of time. He did his best to ease the minds of the two people in his room.  
  
"Good...to see... you."  
  
Suddenly, his eyes flickered into the direction of the distant corner. They widened slightly with shock and... Happiness. The weak Trowa somehow managed a real smile.  
  
"Quatre...!"  
  
The word was barely a whisper, but so full of love and adoration, it pulled at the hearts of both Catherine and Duo. They exchanged a quick glance. Trowa's time had apparently run out.  
  
"Quatre...I...missed you so...much..."  
  
Trowa seemed to listen for a few moments, his head cocked to one side in intent concentration. There was a long silence, then, Trowa spoke the last words anyone would ever hear him say.  
  
"Y-yes...I'm ready to go...with...you."  
  
Those beautiful green eyes fluttered closed and Trowa's breath was released from his body with a tired sigh. Slowly, his head lolled to one side, his few remaining strands of hair falling into his face. His chest never rose to take in another life sustaining breath. He had gone, hopefully to where he could be together with his true love.  
  
Had Quatre really been in the room in that last moment? Who could really say? But Duo hoped with all his heart that it might be so. Yes, it must have been so. He believed, believed with all his mind, body and soul. Trowa and Quatre were together again, this time for all eternity.  
  
Duo crossed over to where Catherine was sitting. He knelt besides her and wrapped his strong arms about her. She buried her head into his chest. Her throat worked convulsively a few times.  
  
"He's really gone..." was all she managed to say before the knowledge finally registered.  
  
Her grief spilled forth and she released her hot tears, but not for the last time, oh no, not for the last time.  
  
"I know..." Duo's grip tightened slightly and his own tears streamed hot down his face to fall on the bowed head of the woman in his arms. "I'm so sorry.... Catherine..."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. 


	2. Green Fields of France Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I make no money from this or any other story I write Pairings: 2+5, 5+S, 2+C Category: Angst Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Angst, Death Title: Green Fields of France Author: yellowhorde Status: Finished Visit my web page, yellowhorde's house, or feel free to send comments/constructive criticism to me at yellowhorde@hotmail.com  
  
GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE PART TWO  
  
Duo strode at a steady pace down the road, his suit jacket dragging carelessly behind him. He didn't care. What did it matter in the grand scheme of things? Not one little bit!  
  
The sun was setting in a fiery blaze of glory, but Duo looked upon it with unseeing eyes. He wasn't thinking, wasn't feeling... The young man was numb in mind, body, and spirit... and that suited him just fine. He didn't want to think, didn't want to feel...anything, not ever again.  
  
Death followed him around like a stray dog. He was cursed to lose everything he held dear. His parents, his friends, his loves, everything. It was so unfair! So God damned unfair!  
  
The useless jacket dropped to the dust pavement from unfeeling fingers with a soft thud. It was too hot to wear one anyways...  
  
The braided youth's hands gripped his head, fingers tangling into his hair. Now the tears that had eluded him earlier at the funeral came. They ripped into him as if with claws, tearing out his heart, shredding his very soul. And it hurt! It hurt SO MUCH! The tears spilled hot and burning down his face. Scalding him. Blinding him. He flung his head back and bellowed up at the sky, to a God blind and indifferent to the suffering of his "children".  
  
"Why do you do this to me, God? What did I ever do to you to deserve this, to deserve any of it? Why can't you just let me be happy? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?"  
  
Of course, he didn't get any response. Nor did he expect one. As far as he was concerned God was dead. From this point on, God simply had ceased to exist for Duo.  
  
With a snarl, the American reached into his shirt and withdrew the golden crucifix that was his only constant companion throughout the long, lonely years. With a savage pull, Duo ripped away the golden necklace. He stared at it for a moment.  
  
(Dear Heavenly Father...You don't care about me! You never have! I am nothing to You, so now You are nothing to me!)  
  
With all his strength Duo hurled away the offending symbol and he ran, ran, ran... He ran from the hurt, the sorrow, the loss... but no matter how fast he ran, all these things were right behind him, dogging his heels like a damned shadow. There was no escape. Not now, not ever.  
  
Finally, to exhausted to continue Duo slowed and found himself near a graveyard.  
  
(How appropriate. I guess I can never get away from Death, even in it's symbolic forms.)  
  
Duo wearily plodded through the forest of neatly arranged rows. There were so many white crosses. They seemed to stretch on forever. It boggled the mind. Too emotionally and physically drained to move another step, Duo sank to his knees at the foot of one of the markers and wept silently. His long braid fell over his shoulder and pooled on the ground.  
  
The funeral had been held in a truly lovely cemetery. But then, ironically, most cemeteries were pretty. It must be that way for the visitors, because the permanent tenants sure didn't give a damn one way or the other.  
  
It had been one of those beautiful summer days that were remembered for years and years for their utter perfection. The world resplendent in shades of blue and green. White fluffy clouds, a cool breeze gently blowing, rustling the leaves in a sound almost reminiscent of the surf.  
  
It seemed so terribly wrong that the sun could shine on such an awful day. But shone it had. It was undeniable unfair. It was, as Wufei would have said, an injustice. This thought brought on a fleeting smile.  
  
Yes, injustice was the best word to describe the whole miserable situation, all right. His last real friend in the entire world had just died, leaving Duo and Trowa's grieving sister all alone. Forever. The last person who could truly understand how the braided man had thought and felt.  
  
Together, as a team, the five of them, Heero, Trowa, Quatre, Wufei and himself had piloted their Gundam through Hell and back for the sake of peace between the Earth and the Colonies. But that peace had not lasted nearly long enough.  
  
So why had they fought, what had they killed for, died for? It just didn't make any sense!  
  
The unbearable sadness had proved to be too much for the young man. He fled from the service, unable to stand another word of how merciful and loving God was. That was the biggest lie of them all! God didn't care - no one cared! It was, when you got right down to it, every man for himself.  
  
Why had it taken him so long to learn this truth? Well, finally the scales had fallen from his eyes and he could see the truth for what it was, something that was dark and brooding and out to hurt you, to kill you if it could.  
  
(Well, come on and get me, if you can!)  
  
Duo Maxwell had fled, blinded by the tears that filled his eyes. Catherine watched him go, her heart aching for the former pilot.  
  
(He was alone now. And so am I...)  
  
She allowed Duo his freedom, his privacy. She wanted to stay for the service. It was the last thing she would ever be able to do for her younger brother. It would hopefully give her some sense of closure. Then maybe, just maybe, she would be able to get on with her life. If God was indeed as merciful and loving as everyone told her.  
  
*****  
  
Duo was simply out of tears. He just didn't have any left, at least not now. Later, there would always be a later.  
  
Right now he felt drained, hollow, tired, both physically and emotionally. He picked himself up with a sigh and sat Indian style before one of the gravestones. He peered closer at the worn inscription.  
  
William McBride. Born May 3, 1897 - Died May 7, 1916.  
  
(He was the same age Wufei was when he was killed...) Duo mused. (1916. World War I. Also known as the Great War or The War To End All Wars.) Duo scoffed at that thought. (Well, they sure had that one pegged wrong!)  
  
How many young men, just like this William McBride, did I send to their maker in the name of justice... and peace? How many sons, fathers, brothers did I kill? How many happy families did I destroy? Oh, God! I don't know! I don't even want to know! I became Shinigami to save the world, right? But what...who was I really saving...? And in saving the world, did I lose myself...? Killing in the name of peace. That sounds so false! How could I have been so blind in my beliefs? Was it really the only was? Who knows...?  
  
(I can't alter the past. What was done was done. No, you can't do it over no matter how you might want to, right Wufei...?) A small whimper rose from Duo's chest.  
  
(Oh, but if I could have done things differently!)  
  
The image of the last time Duo had seen Wufei alive flashed quickly through his mind. It had been on the Chinese youth's wedding day.  
  
(Good old Wufei!)  
  
He had looked so handsome in his tuxedo, he had been so happy. Duo recalled how his face had been flushed with joy; his eyes had sparkled with over powering love for his new bride, Sally Po. Duo had attended the wedding only because the Chinese boy had invited him personally. He would have rather avoided the whole thing altogether.  
  
Somehow, through sheer strength of will Duo had even managed to appear happy for the new couple. But inside, inside Duo had been wailing, his soul dying a piece at a time.  
  
At the reception Duo had had a few too many drinks. Now, years later, he could admit that to himself. He had been trying to drown out his sorrow. But he had had no luck.  
  
Instead of making him forget, the alcohol had left the distraught young American feeling alone, unloved, depressed and highly unwanted. All this he was capable of feeling on his own. The drinks just made it one hundred times worse.  
  
He had attempted to leave the party early, but Wufei had confronted about his ability to drive. Duo, angry about the whole situation and sorely regretting that he had never told Wufei of his love for him, had loudly insisted that he, the dreaded Shinigami, was perfectly capable of driving himself home, thank you very much! He had turned to walk out, or at least he attempted to.  
  
Dizziness had swooped down on him with a vengeance, the whole world swan in a crazy dance as he found himself falling, falling, and only the lightning fast reflexes of the Chinese boy had kept him from crashing to the ground in a drunken heap.  
  
Being held in the strong arms of his beloved Wufei! How often Duo had daydreamed that scenario. Well, finally he had got his wish. As luck, or fate, would have it, it didn't happen exactly as the American had envisioned it. He felt the warm press of Wufei's body, his arms around him... Those onyx eyes, so filled with concern, concern for him, for Duo Maxwell! It had been too much to bear!  
  
Something deep inside him cried out in agony and-  
  
He had kissed Wufei.  
  
The young American kissed the other boy as he had always wanted to - deeply, passionately, his arms wrapping themselves about that lithe body. He didn't know how long he had held on, a month, a day, a year, ten seconds, ten minuets. However long it had been, it hadn't been long enough...it could never have been long enough!  
  
After an eternity, he realized, much to his surprise and delight that Wufei was not protesting or trying to pull away. No, he had instead melted into Duo, returning that one perfect kiss with as much passion as Duo gave. What could it mean? Did this mean that Wufei loved him, had feelings for him? For the briefest moment, he dared to dream the impossible, that Wufei could belong to him, and to him alone. Forever!  
  
The sound of Sally calling for her bridegroom had broken that spell. In swept harsh reality, bye-bye dreams of bliss and happiness! Wufei was now a married man! That meant he was officially off limits! Till Death do us part and all of that happy crappy!  
  
(But I AM Death!) Duo's mind had argued. (I chose to part this couple. Wufei belongs to me!)  
  
No, no, no, no!  
  
(I love you, Wufei!)  
  
Duo had cried in huge gasping sobs as he fled from the reception hall, his long braid trailing after his retreating form. He almost ran into Sally for his tears and grief blinded him to everything else.  
  
Wufei had tried to catch the swift boy, to take him into his arms once more, but he had been stopped in his tracks as the cold reality finally smacked him solidly in the guts.  
  
(I am married. Not to Duo, but to Sally. Can I really choose between the two I love?) The truth finally sank in. (You have already made your choice, Wufei. Let it go... it's for the best.)  
  
His thin shoulders slumped in utter defeat.  
  
For the best... Yeah, right.  
  
Until the day he had died, Wufei would be torn by thoughts of "What if..." What if he had been truthful about his feelings towards the insolent, maddeningly cheerful, devastatingly beautiful American from the beginning... What if he had decided to pursue him on the night of his wedding? What if... what if...  
  
During the brief time that he and Sally had shared, Wufei hid his true feelings for the American deep in his most secret heart. He still loved Sally and he had always been a tender and loving husband. Hiding his true feelings from her, from himself, it became a habit for him. Always hiding behind a mask, hiding to ease the pain.  
  
When Sally had given birth to a daughter, Wufei had been overjoyed, having always wanted children of his own to love and raise. They had finally agreed to name the child Meilan, after Wufei's first wife, who had died in defense of her home, her family, and her true love.  
  
When Meilan had been two years old, she became very sick. Her face flushed a deep and shocking red, and a deep cough wracked her small body. She had also been running a very high fever. Being new parents, both Sally and Wufei, who both doted on the child, had panicked. Wufei had immediately called up the doctor and was given the name of a reliable medicine that would help bring the baby's temperature back to normal in no time at all and help relieve her cough until they would be able to bring her in to the office the following morning. The fearful father had set out for an all night pharmaceutical store at once.  
  
Wufei had been waiting impatiently in line at the checkout station, his mind consumed with worry. All the while he mentally cursed the slow moving cashier. Who knew that the place would be so busy at 2 a.m. in the morning?  
  
A masked man had rushed into the store and began to swear violently and wave a gun around at the frightened customers demanding the money in the cashier drawers.  
  
Wufei did what came naturally to him - he attempted to put an end to this injustice. The burglar shot him in the throat and fled, money in hand. Wufei lay, his head cradled in lap of a young blond woman, his life blood draining away waiting for an ambulance that would never come in time.  
  
He had died for a measly $256.07.  
  
No, life had not played him very fair.  
  
Sally had been devastated by her loss. Duo helped out the mother and child as best as he could. He felt that he had owed his friend that much. He offered his money, his time, and his emotional support to the distraught woman. Eventually, after a year or so, Sally remarried and Duo began to slowly drift away from them both. He saw less and less of the two women in Wufei's life.  
  
But then again, it was all for the best.  
  
THE END 


End file.
